


Jealousy Doesn't Look Good On You

by IronMum



Category: Doctor Strange (2016), Iron Man (Movies), Marvel Cinematic Universe, Spider-Man (Tom Holland Movies), The Avengers (Marvel Movies)
Genre: Angst with a Happy Ending, Cloak of Levitation (Marvel), Doctor Dad, Emotional Hurt/Comfort, Father-Son Relationship, Gen, Hurt Peter Parker, Hurt/Comfort, Irondad, Jealous Tony Stark, Milk And Cookies, Parent Tony Stark, Peter Parker Needs a Hug, Stephen Strange Acting as Peter Parker's Parental Figure, spiderson
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2021-01-31
Updated: 2021-01-31
Packaged: 2021-03-18 12:41:12
Rating: General Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 4,836
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/29118405
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/IronMum/pseuds/IronMum
Summary: When Peter comes to the Tower adorning some familiar wizard robes, a jealous Tony can’t help but taunt and tease until the kid reaches his limit. Luckily, Dr. Stephen Strange is on call.
Relationships: Peter Parker & Stephen Strange, Peter Parker & Tony Stark
Comments: 10
Kudos: 166





	Jealousy Doesn't Look Good On You

**Author's Note:**

  * For [Kevy_Grayce](https://archiveofourown.org/users/Kevy_Grayce/gifts).



> Just another self-indulgent fic! The prompt for this one from Kevy_Grayve was Jealous Tony and boy was it simultaneously difficult and a blast. Hope you enjoy :)

As the fizzling of a portal resonated behind him, Tony dropped the tools in his hand and turned around incredulously. His mouth opened to berate the doctor but instantly stopped himself at the sight of Peter Parker walking through. If that wasn't shocking enough, Peter seemed to be wearing similar attire to that of the Sorcerer's, albeit it was a little big for him. 

"Please don't," the teen begged as he trudged into the lab and headed straight for his assigned desk. He looked like the personification of mortified. Feet dragging, head low, shoulders sagged and face as red as the Iron Man suit. 

Peter could feel his mentor staring at him. Not that the older man meant to, he just had a gazillion questions racing through his head. _Had Strange upset Peter? Why the fuck was his kid wearing wizard robes? Was Peter wanting to learn magic? Had Peter been learning it on the side? Was the lab becoming boring? Was HE becoming boring to his kid?_

"Please stop looking at me like that," Peter quietly demanded as he barely shifted his gaze to look at Tony.

"What's got your robes in a twist?" Tony jested with a snort. He gave it a minute before daring a glance back at the teen who had ignored the question. Was this some sort of teenage angst and rebellion? It does happen to them all at some point, he just wasn’t used to the silent treatment. Used to being ignored. Used to someone who would always beam at his dad jokes and crappy puns. Deciding to leave it for now, the older man chose to get lost in the upgrading of some of the tech within his latest suit. Schematics pulled up on multiple screens soon filled his vision as music played at a level comfortable enough for Peter to enjoy too.

At least an hour had gone by when Peter silently left his desk to grab a glass of water, uncharacteristically not asking if his mentor would like any snacks or refreshments. It was becoming unbearable for Tony if he was honest with himself, but he was having trouble executing what he should say. So he opted for what he knew was best, even if it wasn’t always the healthiest. _Humour._

"Strange didn't teach you how to just create little portals for hydration and food purposes?" he asked, eyes focused on the wiring in front of him. If he had looked over at his mentee, he would've seen the visible frustration lacing Peter's every movement. The kid had barely been able to concentrate, his fingers still shaking slightly from adrenalin. 

"You know if you wanted to go all wizard's apprentice on me, you could've just asked. I don't mind joint custody." Another joke that fell flat on its face as the tension in the room rose. The truth was the longer the teen silently remained in the room, the more overwhelmed Tony was feeling. He didn't blame Peter for wanting to learn a new skill. He wasn't angry that Strange was able to use magical abilities beyond his capabilities. _Okay, maybe just a hint of resentment on that part._ He was doing his best not to snap. Doing his best to take it in stride. Doing his best to try and ignore how excruciating this experience was becoming. Doing his best to ignore that this completely felt like rejection and alienation. _The push away._ The opening of a betrayal he’d not felt before. A wound only his kid could inflict upon him as a parental figure, even if they’d never admitted to one another they were beyond mentorship and now in the realms of father and son. Why couldn’t Peter just tell him he wasn’t as interested anymore?

Peter could practically hear his mentor thinking. Could feel the glances in his direction becoming more frequent. After the last joke, he’d surprised himself by not imploding in anger. He’d had a shitty day, amplified by a shittier evening and his mentor was choosing to make jokes at his expense. Where was the usual concern? Hadn’t he noticed Peter’s hair looking slightly more dishevelled than usual or the pink tinge under his eyes where’d been upset. _Unlikely, Peter. He took one look at your clothes and jumped into whatever mode this is._ And then he looked down at himself. Looked at the ridiculous outfit he was in. Deciding he’d had enough, he left the room, mumbling under his breath that he was going to get changed.

The moment Peter was out of earshot, Tony considered calling Stephen and asking what the fuck was happening. The kid’s desk had remained pretty much unchanged since he’d entered the room via portal. Tony’s phone was in his hand, staring down at the contact profile. The picture was of a bad edit of the doctor’s face, a cartoon magician's hat on his head and a superimposed balloon animal in the corner. Naturally, his name was down as “ _Doctor Douchebag.”_ Tony’s thumb hovered over the call button before shifting to the text, then put it back in his pocket in defeat. Everyone knew Strange had a fond habit of ignoring his calls and texts.

"Am I doing something wrong, Fri?" he asked, staring up at the ceiling. The AI was about to reply when Peter returned, now sporting clothes that looked far more natural on him. There wasn’t quite a smile on his usually happy face, but he looked slightly less tense than before.

"You didn't fancy teleporting down here, huh?" Tony joked, ensuring his tone was much lighter than before. Apparently not light enough for Peter though, whose face dropped just about as far as it could. 

"Mr Stark, please. I've asked you to stop." The teen had so hoped for Tony to just comment on his Iron Man socks or his mentor’s favourite t-shirt. 

"Can't fault a man for being curious about being taught the Mystic Arts by Professor Snape."

That was it. That was the final straw. Peter’s head snapped towards Tony’s with such force he was probably going to feel slightly whiplashed. Despite his chin wobbling and his eyes beginning to glaze over, he stood fiercely. Tony had never seen him so angry before. Peter rounded the table and was suddenly storming towards his mentor, causing the older man to almost jerk back in shock. 

"I was attacked, alright? I was attacked by some weird wizard. And I had no access to my suit. And my clothes were ruined. And I cannot tell you how much it absolutely _sucked._ And Stephen showed up and… And this was all he had." Peter admitted through harsh exasperated breaths, voice up several octaves. 

"Doesn't he have any normal clothes you could've borrowed?" Tony asked when he realised how much of a colossal fuckup he had made. He probably should have apologised but it got lost at the tip of his tongue. And for whatever, his brain picked that response first.

"Coming from the man who humiliated me by getting me Hello Kitty PJ's when he took my suit away?" Peter replied bitterly. 

His mentor's first thought hadn't been to dote or smother the teen like it usually was. No asking if he was alright or if he needed anything. In fact, not even an apology. Instead, it was a damn sarcastic comment about the wizard clothes.

A dangerous, tense beat passed. And then another as the pair simply stared at each other. For just a brief moment, Peter felt a glimmer of hope when Tony's features seemed to finally sense his upset. But when his mentor's mouth opened, then almost instantaneously slammed closed again, the teen knew he was done. 

Turning on his heel clumsily and dashing for his desk, Peter's first instincts were his phone. Trembling fingers typed furiously and within seconds he sighed in relief at the sound of a portal forming in the workshop. 

He quickly made his escape, not daring to glance back as he violently yanked away from Tony's touch, who quietly begged him to wait.

Overwhelmed with emotion and tears brimming, Peter ended up running straight into the body of Stephen Strange. The force of his movement had the Cloak of Levitation assisting to keep the doctor's balance. The teen tucked his face into Stephen's chest, a shudder visible as a sob managed to tear it's way past his lips. At the gut-wrenching sound, the Cloak quickly and protectively held Peter close to the doctor, causing the kid to grip the back of the robes even tighter.

The fierceness that the boy was clutching onto him served only to piss the Stephen off, leaving him wondering what the fuck Tony had done. He looked back through the portal at the mechanic, sporting one of the most menacing glares he'd probably ever given someone. _If looks could kill._

With his main priority being the kid, Stephen wrapped his arms around the teen and allowed the portal to close, leaving Tony suddenly alone.

"Fuck," Tony muttered to himself before repeating it slightly louder. "What did I do?" he asked rhetorically, scratching the back of his neck as he looked around the workshop that had never felt so _empty._

"You were not reading the room very well, boss," F.R.I.D.A.Y. provided completely unnecessarily. The response had Tony’s fists curling and eyes closing as he tried to calm himself. Deciding to shut himself away from the world, he locked the workshop doors and demanded his AI play music as loud as he could possibly handle.

It was odd to Peter that he felt so comforted by someone who clearly had zero experience consoling a stressed out, upset teenager. The awkward pats to his head and back, the occasional loosening of the arms to test if he was ready to let go. _Almost like those first few hugs he’d had with Tony._ The doctor’s back had felt ramrod straight throughout, not that he’d voiced any discomfort despite the incredibly, unyielding grasp. In fact there had been a few soft, reassuring ‘ _there, theres’_ mixed in with the Cloak’s gentle strokes. 

"I’m sorry," Peter said, voice muffled from his position as his breathing finally started to settle.

"No need," Stephen retorted, almost sounding sheepish. "Can I do anything for you?"

Peter’s fingers released from their tight grip and he slowly took a step back, releasing the doctor. The Cloak was quick to glide off of Stephen’s shoulders and gently take their place on the teen, the left side of the collar, tenderly wiping a rogue tear running down his cheek. When he didn’t form a response initially, a careful yet protective hand grasped his shoulder, concern etched across the doctor’s features.

"Co- Could I just stay here for a bit?" Peter asked coyly, leaning into the touch slightly. 

"Sure." The short response is curt but not in any way impolite as he started to lead them towards the living room. The place certainly had a vintage feel about it: high ceilings, dark décor and littered with strange while beautiful relics and ornaments. 

Once Peter was sat down, Stephen left the room momentarily before returning with a glass of milk and cookies. Despite being ever thankful for the gesture, the teen couldn’t help but wonder how old the doctor thought he was. And clearly it was showing on his face when Stephen cleared his throat.

"I can get you something else?"

"Oh no, no," Peter said as he took the glass and small plate. "They’re perfect, thank you."

"It’s Wong’s favourite pick me up," Stephen offered, choosing not to mention it was in fact his own favourite as a child as he took the seat opposite Peter. "If you want more, just let me know." As he spoke he pushed two fingers to his forehead and immediately topped the drink up after Peter had had a single sip.

"You must be the best at throwing parties," Peter said in awe, inspecting the glass from side to side. 

"Not just a pretty face," the doctor retorted, sounding just a little too much like Tony. The way the boy’s skin paled at the thought didn't go unnoticed. "Are you okay? Any side-effects from the encounter with Elanios?"

"Y-Yeah. I'm okay. Thanks again for saving me," Peter mumbled as he took a nibble of the chocolate chip biscuit, delighted at how delicious it was.

"For the record, it was completely random that you were targeted. We've been following a couple of cases where teens had…started going missing. I am thankful to have reached you before anything…escalated." There was an emphasis on the last word, the doctor choosing to voice his concern for the kid carefully. "We also managed to find the missing kids after I sent you back to Stark. They're now all with the police ready to be reunited."

"That's great," Peter acknowledged, covering his mouth as he finished chewing. "Really great." 

"Do you want to stay here this evening?" Stephen asked, the teen looking shocked at the sudden question. "I obviously returned you to your second home as your aunt wasn't in and I get the impression you're not wanting to go back... And I'd prefer you had some company rather than sitting in an empty apartment."

"That's really nice of you, but I wouldn't want to inconvenience Miste-Doct-"

"Stephen is fine," the doctor interrupted tentatively. "And I wouldn't offer if I didn't want to."

The Cloak gave Peter a squeeze to assert just how welcome he was at the Sanctum. The gesture alleviated just a small amount of how much his mentor's words and actions had freaking _hurt._

"Thank you." 

"Did you want to talk about it?" Stephen questioned, not wishing to pry but just wanting the teen to feel some kind of relief. "I don't have to offer advice, I can just listen."

"He... he just…he wouldn’t stop making jokes at my expense without even knowing what had happened. He didn’t ask how I was, didn’t make sure I was alright. Just nothing but stupid jokes. He was fixated on you and the wizard clothes. He was so..."

"Jealous?" Stephen finished the sentence, almost certain it was the word the kid had been looking for. 

"I guess so," Peter huffed, a hint of guilt making its presence known in the pit of his stomach. Did he dare engage in a conversation where his mentor was being viewed in a bad light? _Even if he was a complete asshole._

"You’re very gifted, Peter. I can see why he might feel nervous about losing you even if that does have a possessive twang to it," Stephen provided, filling the almost empty milk glass up, much to Peter’s amusement.

"He did think you were taking me on as some sort of wizard apprentice," Peter confessed in admiration at the display of magic before him.

"Well, would you like to learn some?" Stephen offered, sensing the immediate tension it caused Peter. "He proclaims to always be right so we wouldn’t want him being wrong, now would we?"

"Wha… What sort of stuff would you teach me?" Peter queried curiously.

"There’s so much, I’m sure I could find something fitting for someone of your age…"

"Like refilling drinks?!" the teen interrupted, far more excited than he’d been all day.

"Like your astral form studying for class and finals whilst your physical body sleeps," Stephen proposed as he stood from his seat with a smirk.

"Holy shi-! That sounds _insane,_ " Peter gawked, standing just as quickly. Stephen motioned for the Cloak to return to him, but it stubbornly refused. Peter leaned his face to the side with the first genuine smile the doctor had seen from the kid in a while. 

"How about we take a little tour of the Sanctum and go from there?" 

Peter was quick to accept, rushing to the doctor’s side as they marveled at the rooms and the magical wonders that they held. Stephen told tales of the enemies he had dealt with and how he’d defeated them. Eventually, Peter went on to do the same, the pair talking well into the early hours.

The first few days following the incident had gone by in a blur. But then Tony had recharged, had one decent night's sleep and ate well and realised he was missing Peter’s daily messages dreadfully. Because even if Tony wasn’t readily available to reply, he would without a shadow of doubt read them. Even when Peter had been directed to Happy’s voicemail rather than Tony’s, he was listening. He enjoyed hearing a classic Peter monologue in the lab, the kid often sporting a beaming, bright smile and full of dramatic flair. Or the rapid fire text messages that would fill his phone up with a wall of text. But there wasn’t a single ounce of the communication that had helped solidify their ever growing bond. 

When it hit a week, Tony had spent a majority of his day, phone in hand and fingers poised ready to type a message. Everything he typed out ended up being deleted. There was no doubt Peter would’ve seen his typing if he had been looking at his phone at the same time. After what had felt like an hour of typing out _I'm sorry_ and then deleting, he paused to see Peter was typing to him. Minutes go by and then the typing stops, but there’s no message. They both start typing at the same time again just minutes later and finally Tony’s phone buzzes.

_Peter: sorry ive been busy lately_

It was bullshit and Tony knew it was, but could he blame the kid for coming up with such a bad excuse? He’d watched the workshop footage of that day with fresh eyes, not only as a punishment but to really look. He realised how exhausted and beaten down his kid looked. He’d forever regret dismissing Peter after he’d snapped and let him know he was attacked. 

_Tony: Peter. I’m sorry_

The message is sent quickly, even if there’s a lot more to say. He just needed to make the start.

_Tony: I was a real dick and you didn’t deserve it. I let my emotions get the better of me._

The older man wanted to tell the teen how much he meant to him, wanted to lay it all out like he’d never done so before, but trying to type that into words felt damn impossible. And his kid deserved to hear it in person.

_Tony: Could we meet this weekend and talk?_

The next three minutes and thirty-two seconds are the longest of Tony’s life.

_Peter: ok_

_Tony: Great… Is Saturday lunchtime good? We can order whatever you’d like. Hell, how about Five Guys?_

_Peter: sure_

The curt responses are like a lance through his chest. Not even being able to elicit a joke about burgers told him everything he needed. Tony could only hope he hadn’t damaged their parental relationship permanently.

Friday came and Tony’s anxiety were well and truly through the roof. He’d tried engaging in conversation with Peter a little more which had proven to be unsuccessful and he’d barely managed to speak with May because of her working double shifts. At this rate, it hadn’t even embarrassed him to be ghosted not only by his intern, but also Stephen Strange. Eventually, he’d turned up at the Sanctum’s front door and had actually managed a frank conversation with the doctor. As if his shame could be even more so, hearing about the exact details of Peter’s attempted abduction pushed him over the edge. 

Now there was less than twenty-four hours to go before he’d see his boy again. Because that’s how he felt towards Peter. A father figure that hadn’t ever been able to admit it. He’d created some fresh ideas for the suit, even had the Iron Spider suit back out casually. He swiped the holographic projections to the beat of the music blaring. That was until the music in Tony’s workshop came to a complete halt, as both his phone vibrated simultaneously alongside F.R.I.D.A.Y. beginning to call out an alert.

"Mr. Parker’s lifesigns seem to have taken a dramatic decline very suddenly, boss."

"Patch me through," he demanded instantly as he called the suit without a second thought. The call was transferred to the helmet of his suit and the teen’s location was displayed on the HUD.

"Peter?" he called out, not even attempting to hide the fear in his voice. "Pete? Buddy? You there?" All he can hear is sharp breaths laced with an occasional whimper that threatened to break his resolve completely. Karen was sending information to his own AI that was relaying it on his display. 

"I’m coming, Peter. You hear me? I’ll be there in a few minutes," he continued, hoping that it might serve as some kind of comfort to his kid if he was conscious.

"S-Sorry," the teen managed in such a quiet, slurred voice that Tony only just picked it up over the speakers. The word was quickly followed by three gravelly breaths and then a guttural sob filled with sheer terror and agony.

"Don’t speak, okay? I’m coming for you." There is no indication of acknowledgement to that. Thankfully, the location was in sight and the older man prepared his descent to ground level.

Tony was sure his heart had jumped right out of his ribcage when he landed unceremoniously, path scorched by his repulsors. A cold shiver went down his back, all the hairs on his body rising with goosebumps as he took huge strides towards the red and blue lifeless mound on the ground.

"Buddy?" he implored as he crouched next to the teen. When there was no response, he carefully took a grip of Peter’s arm and rolled him over. There was a gasp from the teen at the movement, leaving Tony more panicked than he had upon arrival.

"T-Tony?" the boy said in a daze, the use of the older man’s first name catching him off guard.

"I’m right here, I’m gonna get you back to the tower." As he spoke, he scooped Peter into his arms bridal style. The kid was in no state to walk, let alone get to his feet. Slowly, Peter managed to sling an arm across Tony’s chest and allowed it to stick to the shoulder. His body was trying to shut down, wanting to heal, but this had been the pair’s first real interaction in almost a week. And that had been on Peter.

"I’m… I’m so sorry, kiddo." The mechanic’s voice was nothing more than a hoarse whisper. "I wasn’t giving you my all and it’s the very least you deserve."

"I’m sorry I ghosted you," Peter said, his forehead leaning into Tony’s chest. Every muscle in his body shook with a mixture of exhaustion and nerves. He was forever glad that his mask was on to cover the tears that were now falling. His chest was in so much pain. Not just from the broken ribs he had sustained, but from the longing of his mentor’s caring, fatherly touch. 

"Fri, alert medbay," Tony demanded, as they flew the short distance towards the tower.

"Wait, no medbay," Peter said, voice small and weak like he’d reached his limit. _Like when he’d left the workshop that day._

"Peter..." Tony attempted to reason, swallowing down an abundance of emotions. 

"Already starting to heal," Peter defended, the lens of his suit lulling closed as his own eyes did.

"Alright, but if I find any injuries I can’t deal with, I’m calling Cho," Tony yielded, despite the quivering body in his arms reverberating so strongly he could feel it through the suit.

"Missed the tar factory with the stuff that should feel bad for its existence," Peter managed through gritted teeth, the sound of Tony snorting making him feel better for just a millisecond. 

The landing was possibly one of the smoothest Tony had managed, despite the distractions in his head. He hastily made his way into the living room before placing Peter on the couch. Now that they were in the light, he could see dark patches of blood on the teen’s knees. He also had a hand hanging limply over his abdomen, blood seeping through his gloved fingers.

First aid box in hand and heart pounding in his ears, Tony was back at his kid’s side and on his knees, realising he was likely going to be doing a few stitches now that the gash in Peter’s side was more visible.

"You mind me getting a quick look at your face, buddy?" The older man questioned, hand already approaching the mask’s edges. Peter whimpered an _mhm,_ allowing his mentor to tuck his fingers under and delicately remove it from his head. Their eyes met for the first time in what had felt like too long. Peter’s were bloodshot, red rimmed and full of need. Tony’s were fighting the rise of tears building, dark circles lining them from where he’d struggled to rest since their argument. 

Tony maintained eye contact as he dropped the mask next to Peter’s head and reached for the kid’s face, careful of the healing abrasions that littered his cheeks. He carefully pushed away the matted curls from around Peter’s face before allowing his hand to move down to cup the teen’s cheek. Peter was quick to lean into the touch, face visibly relaxing with a soft exhale. He'd missed this _so much._

"S-Sorry," Peter tried again, vaguely recalling his first apology going unanswered. 

"You never, ever have to apologise for something that was my wrongdoing. I… I care about you so much. And on that day, something took over me that shouldn't have. Hell, I would've ignored me in your shoes." Tony stopped when he found he had no air left, forcing himself to inhale. "You're my kid. And. I love you, Underoos."

Peter swallowed thickly before managing to just about curl one side of his lip. He closed his eyes and simply relished in the touch of Tony's hand on his face as the thumb slowly stroked up and down.

"I don't want to have to move but I've gotta sort this wound out, kiddo," Tony admitted reluctantly as he eyed the blood dripping from the kid's side. Peter let out a defeated groan before his head lulled in the opposite direction. 

With Peter practically passed out, the few stitches Tony had needed to do went by pretty swiftly. Had his AI been a real person, he was sure they would've told him to shut up with the amount of times he required reassurances that the teen was okay. _He was just in healing hibernation mode, Tony. You’ve seen this a dozen times._ That’s what he was trying to tell himself, anyway. In the circumstances, it was working about as well as a chocolate teapot.

"Fri, is anyone in the tower?" he said quietly up to the ceiling. There was an underlying _anyone I trust_ in the sentence that his AI was all too familiar with.

"Vision is the downstairs kitchen," she replied at an equally hushed tone.

"Could you ask him to bring up a bunch of blankets?" he asked, anticipating a sassy response that never came.

"I don’t believe Vision has access to the penthouse, boss. Do you want me to change his privileges?"

"He can walk through walls, I’m sure he can manage," Tony retorted, a hand softly falling back into place on Peter’s cheek.

"I’m unaware if the blankets would also do so, so I have temporarily given him access. He will be up in a moment," F.R.I.D.A.Y. confirmed, not wanting Tony to be startled by Vision’s appearance via elevator.

It was only a few minutes later when Tony felt a hand on his shoulder, oblivious to Vision's entry. Tony offered a genuine and thankful smile at the stack that had been brought up.

"Is there anything else I can get for you?" Vision asked tentatively as he handed one over and curiously watched how the older man carefully placed it on the teen, his touch so tender and _fatherly._

"No, no. Thank you, Vision," Tony replied, knowing the android probably had other things to be doing. Unlike himself, whose whole life was lying unconscious beside him. The android simply nodded, choosing to grab two glasses of water and assembling a small fruit bowl before placing it next to Tony and leaving.

Not that any words had been spoken, but the older man appreciated the gesture more than Vision would ever know. A soft sigh of contentment left Peter's mouth amongst his gentle snoring, leaving Tony wondering if this was what it was like to be so unabashedly biased. Tonight they would both rest. He would rest with his boy. 

And tomorrow they'd talk about what happened and Tony would make sure Peter knew just how important he was when he was more coherent.


End file.
